


The Weight of Fate

by ForForever19



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chance Meetings, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForForever19/pseuds/ForForever19
Summary: 'The rain is coming, she knows. It's just waiting for something. Waiting on them, maybe. Kind of like Fate.'
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 19
Kudos: 291





	The Weight of Fate

**Disclaimer:** I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**The Weight of Fate**

* * *

Taking the subway to get home is going to be a bad idea.

It's freezing out and, after one look at the sky, Rachel Berry just knows it's going to rain. The clouds are ominous, and she vaguely recalls Jesse's warning to bring a coat.

Perhaps, if he remembered to bring _himself_ , she wouldn't be so mad.

The doorman gives Rachel a sympathetic look when she steps out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. She can tell he remembers her from when she stumbled in half an hour earlier, thinking she was late meeting Jesse.

But, lo and behold, the man is a no-show.

"Thank you," she says anyway, kind and polite to a fault. She also feels the need to reassure him that she's actually okay.

If not right now, she _will_ be.

This definitely isn't the first time she's been stood up by her -

She pauses to think. She doesn't even know _what_ to call him these days. He's her… friend, acquaintance, colleague, lover, boyfriend, appendage, one and only.

Rachel actually laughs out loud when that last one pops into her head, and she's suddenly grateful for the quiet sidewalk. Nobody else needs to witness her crazy.

Because, she feels as if she's losing her mind, and it's definitely on display tonight. With everything going on with work, dealing with Jesse, and coming to terms with… everything else, she feels a little high strung.

Well, it's been a lot to deal with, and a part of her was looking forward to the distraction of a lovely - okay, it probably wouldn't have been all that pleasant - dinner with him.

Really, right now, she has half a mind to find Jesse - whether he's at his place or still at the theatre - and let him know just what's been bothering her, but she's worried she'll end up screaming bloody murder at him when she lays eyes on his stupid, smug face.

The aim of this dinner _was_ to have an adult conversation, and now all she wants to do is yell at someone.

Someone who looks exactly like Jesse St James, preferably.

With a tired sigh, Rachel steps closer to the street, prepared to hail a cab, but she finds that she can't bring herself to raise her arm. She just doesn't _want_ to, and it has nothing to do with the sudden, borderline ridiculous, desire actually to use the subway.

A part of her just wants to stay out there on the sidewalk, perhaps even manage to get caught in the rain.

Which is absurd, because she's not willing to risk getting wet, and then getting _cold_ , because she just landed her dream role on Broadway, and she cannot afford to get sick.

Even with that thought, Rachel remains standing perfectly still, her breathing slow as she contemplates her next move. She's vaguely aware of the restaurant door opening once more, but she doesn't turn to look behind her. In her periphery, she notices a figure move to stand on her right, about a metre away, clearly also prepared to hail a cab.

But doesn't.

Rachel resists the urge to look for exactly nineteen seconds, before she turns her head. The figure is a blonde woman, bundled up against the cold in a grey pea coat. Her eyes are trained on the gloomy sky, and she looks about as forlorn as Rachel feels.

Rachel suddenly has the uncontrollable, irrepressible desire to say something, anything, which she squashes down immediately. She doesn't want to _sound_ crazy, even if she might _look_ it.

Even so, she can't bring herself to look away from the woman now that she's looking at her. Her profile is stunning, and Rachel is transfixed by the shape of her perfect nose and full, pink lips. She's completely still, her hands buried deep in her coat pockets and her eyes still fixed on the looming sky.

Rachel feels safe to continue to stare, as long as the woman isn't paying any attention to her.

At least, that's what she thinks until the woman suddenly speaks, catching Rachel off guard and eliciting a surprised squeak from her.

"Did you get stood up?"

Rachel actually jerks at the sound of her voice, and her hand flies to her chest where her heart is beating double-time. "Excuse me?"

The woman turns her deep hazel eyes on Rachel, and the brunette is _certain_ every other human being in existence suddenly falls away into nothingness.

"I saw you come in," the woman says; "and then I saw you leave. Was your date a no-show?"

Rachel audibly swallows. "Yes."

"Sorry."

Rachel licks her lips. "Were you stood up, too?"

She lets out a dark laugh that Rachel _really_ shouldn't find pretty, but she does. "I was actually just dumped," she says.

Rachel's eyes widen. "Oh, wow," she says. "I'm - I'm sorry."

The woman shrugs. "I've survived far worse than a crushing humiliation, so I think I'll be okay."

"Well, that's good."

They both fall silent, and Rachel wonders if this moment is some kind of destiny or fate. Kismet. The two of them were always meant to meet on this sidewalk, and there's no need to deny it.

After a minute, the other woman starts to laugh - somewhat hysterically - and Rachel frowns in confusion. "Are you okay?"

The woman shakes her head, and looks at Rachel. "Do you want to know what the best part is?" she asks rhetorically. She doesn't even end up answering her own question, because she rather pulls out a small velvet box from her pocket.

Rachel gasps. "Is that…?"

The woman hands it to her. "It's almost a cliché, isn't it? The night I'm going to propose, and I get dumped. Like, could you write it any better?"

Rachel holds the box in her hand without opening it, feeling thoroughly confused. " _You_ were going to propose?" she questions, frowning.

The woman rolls her eyes. "There's no societal expectation on the man to do the proposing when there's no _man_ in the relationship," she says. Then, hesitantly, she asks, "you're not about to tell me you have a problem with gay people, are you? We were _just_ starting to get to know each other's misery."

Despite herself, Rachel finds herself smiling. "I don't have a problem," she says. "In fact, I have two dads, and all my best friends are literally _all_ gay."

When the woman returns Rachel's smile, it's as if time stops or something ridiculous like that. That smile can end wars and bring peace to the world, she's sure. "Any of them single?" she asks. "I'm suddenly available."

Rachel smiles sadly. "Unfortunately, no," she humours her anyway. "All happily in relationships. Most of the time."

The woman nods. "I'm glad. People deserve to be happy."

Rachel can feel this conversation going in a very profound direction, and she's not sure she wants to stop it or not. This _is_ the first meaningful interaction she's had with someone who's not trying to get something from her in quite some time, and she doesn't even know her name.

That's easily fixed.

"I'm Rachel, by the way," she says, holding out her hand.

The woman regards her for a moment, and then smiles as she shakes Rachel's hand. Her palm if warm and soft, and Rachel almost closes her eyes in comfort. "Quinn," she says. Then, after a moment of contemplation, she asks, "Were you headed home?"

Rachel sighs. "I don't even know."

"Want to get a coffee?" Quinn offers. "You can bitch about whoever stood you up, and I can start planning how to _win_ my breakup by finding the perfect rebound to shove in her face."

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh, and then sighs. "You know, that actually sounds quite nice," she says. Then, because she's in New York, she asks, "You're not some kind of serial killer, are you?"

Quinn looks amused. "How is one a 'kind of' serial killer?" she asks, oddly curious.

"Answer this," Rachel says; "in the time since we've met, have you had the irrepressible urge to cause me physical harm?"

Now, Quinn looks bemused. "No," she says. "But, you know, the night is still young. Are you a Yankees' fan?"

Rachel can't hold in her surprised laughter. "No, I'm not."

"Then, I think you're all right."

Rachel can almost _feel_ herself being charmed, but she ignores it as she silently gets them walking in some random direction. "There must be a coffee place somewhere around here," she says, mostly to herself. She doesn't know this area well, and she's convinced she's never returning to it. Ever.

"Over there," Quinn suddenly says, pointing to a niche, little place. It's more of an upmarket cafe, which Rachel realises is what she should expect to find in this part of the city.

It reminds her of that movie _Serendipity_ for just a moment, and she allows herself to exist in her little fantasy for just a moment, because _Jesse_.

Quinn leads them to the pedestrian crossing, and then places a gentle hand on the small of her back as they cross the street. Which, okay, is platonic, she knows, but the mere idea that she's almost _protecting_ Rachel almost makes the brunette swoon.

Which turns into a full-blown one the second Quinn opens the door for her. Jesse isn't this attentive, and Rachel absently wonders if Quinn's ex is certifiably insane.

"Is that one all right?" Quinn asks, gesturing to a table near the window. "I'm a bit claustrophobic, so I kind of like to be able to see the street."

Rachel immediately agrees, and their server - whose name tag says is named Abigail - shows them to their table. Rachel notes that Quinn makes to pull out her chair for her, but then thinks better of it, and just takes her own seat. It's clearly a habit, and Rachel can't resist smiling to herself.

The two of them are silent as they peruse their menus, and it's the first time Rachel realises that she's still holding Quinn's ring. She almost jerks at the realisation, and Quinn glances at her, curious.

"Everything okay?" she asks.

Rachel blinks, and then tries to pass the ring back to her, but Quinn doesn't move to take it.

"I don't even know if I want it," Quinn admits, staring at the small box in… apathy. "Would you want to keep it if you were me?"

"I'd probably sell it," Rachel says. " _Can_ you return it?"

"It's kind of a custom design," Quinn says with a slight shrug.

Rachel's mouth drops open. "You designed it?"

She shrugs again, clearly acting as if none of it is actually affecting her, but Rachel can see right through it. Her gorgeous hazel eyes are giving her away. "I wanted it to be special," she eventually says.

"Can I - " she starts to ask, and then stops herself.

"Of course," Quinn says. " _Someone_ should see it." She leans forward and opens the box in Rachel's hands, her skin oh so soft and warm.

Rachel's reaction is involuntary when she sees the ring. She gasps out loud, and then says, "Oh, my God, it's beautiful."

Quinn is seconds away from responding when someone calls out, "She said yes!"

And then their server - fucking Abigail - chooses that moment to show up, and the girl practically shrieks in excitement. "Congratulations!"

Rachel shoots a panicked look at Quinn, who looks entirely too amused about this entire thing.

"Champagne!" someone else calls out. "Get them some champagne!"

Abigail takes off immediately, and the entire establishment breaks out into applause.

Rachel isn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

Quinn takes the ring out of the box and slips it onto Rachel's finger before she can even think to protest. "There you go," she says with a sad smile. "It looks so much better on you, anyway."

"Quinn," Rachel says hesitantly, realising it's the first time she's actually said the blonde's name out loud. "What are you doing?"

"We're getting free champagne," she says. "At least _act_ happy to be engaged."

Rachel rolls her eyes, and then does just that. She squeals and gushes about the ring when Abigail returns with an entire bottle of champagne, and then they toast - along with a few other patrons - to a long and prosperous marriage.

Rachel falls into the role easily, answering questions of the much older couple sitting across from them with a happy smile and waving hands. She's building their entire relationship history as she goes along, and Quinn just watches her with kind, content eyes.

Oh, they've known each other since high school.

They started to date only after graduating from college.

Quinn wasn't always nice to Rachel because she always secretly had a thing for her, but her religious upbringing made it difficult for her to accept herself.

Oh, she's loved Quinn all along, and it was so easy for them to fall into a relationship when Quinn finally got it together and told her.

Their parents are very supportive of the relationship, Rachel says, but she doesn't miss the way Quinn's face falls slightly from the content smile she's been wearing ever since Rachel started to spin their tale.

"Well, I should get back to my fiancée," Rachel says happily. "Thank you for all your kind wishes."

Quinn is sipping at her drink when Rachel turns her attention back to her, and she looks mildly amused. "I love how you made me the villain in the story."

"Not a villain," Rachel immediately says; "just, misunderstood."

Quinn's smile turns into a grin and she shifts forward and drops her voice to a whisper. "I know nothing about you."

"Isn't that the best part?"

Quinn chuckles, and then sighs. "If we're going to get fake married, then you should know that my parents would never support us."

"Oh?"

Quinn nods sadly. "They kind of kicked me out when they learned I was gay," she says. "You're going to be bringing all the family to this relationship."

Rachel automatically reaches across the table and squeezes Quinn's hand in comfort. "I'm sorry," she says. And then, before it can get weird, she says, "And, believe me, I have _plenty_ of family to go around. My one father is Jewish, and the other is African American. Seriously, we're sorted in that department."

Quinn laughs. "God, if _ever_ I wanted to kill my parents, I'd just have to tell them _that_."

Rachel laughs with her, and then releases her hand. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Rachel downs her champagne. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Quinn's eyes widen. "And go where?"

"I don't know," she says. "Somewhere. Anywhere. We're in New York City. We can do anything we want to."

Quinn is about to reply, her eyes lighting up with her own excitement at the prospect, when Rachel's phone starts to ring, rudely interrupting their little fantasy.

Rachel immediately deflates, moving to retrieve the offending device, and her breath catches when she sees Jesse's name. For a moment, she's tempted not to answer, because _he's_ been ignoring her all evening, and she's actually having a good time with Quinn.

But Jesse _is_ her… something, which is why she smiles apologetically at Quinn, and then answers the phone.

"Hello," she says, and then patiently listens to Jesse go on about something or the other. "Oh, I'm not at home."

Quinn lifts her gaze and frowns slightly.

"I was at the _restaurant_ ," Rachel grits out. "Where you were _supposed_ to meet me."

Quinn feels herself grow tense.

"Actually, no," Rachel says into the phone. "What do you mean what do I mean no? Jesse, you're being unreasonable. Well, that's too bad. Fine. _Fine_." And then she hangs up, dropping her phone onto the table with a clatter.

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Trouble?"

"My… person," she mumbles with an absent wave of her hand. "Finally decided to pay attention. Wants me to go home." She rolls her eyes. "Which isn't happening. I'm here with you."

Quinn smiles sadly. "You can go if you need to, you know," she offers. "I'm probably just going to head home and drown myself in alcohol and/or pizza."

Rachel shakes her head. "We still haven't discussed how you're going to win your breakup."

"It's okay, Rachel."

Despite herself, Rachel _reacts_ to the sound of her name from Quinn's lips. Her heart beats double-time, and her breath catches. It just sounds so… magical, and she has the irrepressible urge to reach out and touch her again.

Which is just insane.

"It's okay," Quinn says again. "If you need to go, you can go."

And, Rachel knows she _should_ , so she forces herself to agree. She's always been one to do what's expected of her.

But, first, she has to make a huge spectacle of it. It's obvious to anyone paying attention that the two of them are leaving to _celebrate in private_ , and the old woman with all the questions even shoots them a wink.

"I don't think either of us can ever come back here," Quinn murmurs, as they step onto the sidewalk, and then proceed to head away from the establishment to say their farewell away from the windows.

Rachel's heart suddenly feels heavy, and she just wants to hold onto Quinn. "Quinn," she says, and Quinn glances at her. "Do you ever get the feeling that you were _meant_ to meet certain people?"

"Not until today," she answers truthfully.

Rachel instinctively reaches for her hand and links their fingers. She suppresses her sigh of relief when Quinn doesn't immediately let go. "When I was little, I used to believe in this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?"

"Fate," she says. "Destiny. Something like that."

"But you don't believe it anymore?"

Rachel looks at her. "I think I'm starting to believe it again," she says. "Is that weird?"

Quinn shrugs. "I don't think I can judge that."

Rachel doesn't want this moment to end, which is as terrifying a thought as she's ever had, and she's _Rachel Berry_. "I think I was meant to meet you, for some reason."

"And you don't know what that reason is?"

"Not yet."

Quinn eventually brings them to a stop. "Do you know what I think the reason is?"

"Pray, do tell."

She smiles sadly. "Well, I think I had to meet you to know that I'll get through my breakup just fine. I deserve better than that, and I'm going to be okay without Vanessa." She pauses. "And you needed to meet me to tell you the same thing. You deserve better than someone who's going to stand you up. I would have been fifteen minutes early, waiting with flowers."

Rachel can believe that.

"We needed to meet for me to know there's someone worthy of my custom-made ring, and for you to know that you're worth all the trouble that goes into designing something like that."

At the mention of the ring, Rachel begins to remove it, but Quinn stops her.

"Keep it," she says.

Rachel's eyes widen. "Are you insane? I can't just keep your engagement ring. It must have cost a fortune."

Quinn shrugs. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I'm a millionaire?" she asks.

"No," Rachel immediately says. "Though, it does make me question your ex's sanity once more."

Quinn laughs. "I want you to keep it," she says. "And, if fate really is on our side or something, we'll meet again, and you can give it back to me then, if you feel so inclined."

Rachel just eyes her. "Do you know how low the probability of that is?"

"Very low."

"But fate will make it happen if it's supposed to?"

"I don't know," she says with a sly smile; "you're the one who says she believes in all that stuff."

Rachel shakes her head. "You're trouble, you know that?"

"I'm definitely something."

Rachel's fingers close around Quinn's. "Do you think we'll ever actually see each other again?" she asks.

"Honestly, no," Quinn says. "I don't even live in New York, you know?"

"You don't?"

Quinn shakes her head. "I'm in Graduate School at Yale," she says, shrugging slightly. "I came to the city to propose."

Rachel's face falls even further.

"It's no worry," Quinn says, which is a lie. The reality of her breakup is yet to hit her, and she would much rather not be in Rachel's presence when that happens. "At least the ring still ended up on a pretty girl's finger."

Rachel stares at her for the longest time, and then does something completely crazy. She surges forward and presses her lips to Quinn's, her mind refusing to acknowledge that she's kissing a stranger.

Quinn, after a moment of hesitation, kisses her back. It's chaste, but it burns itself into her memory, and she's certain she's never going to forget this woman.

They break apart a moment later and, before Rachel can apologise, Quinn says, "It's okay."

Rachel wraps her arms around Quinn's neck, hugging her in an attempt to draw out this farewell and keep her flushed cheeks hidden from a hazel gaze. She's never actually kissed a woman before, but she's glad it was Quinn.

"It's okay," Quinn repeats, her arms secure around Rachel's waist.

"Take care of yourself," Rachel instructs, finally releasing her. "You deserve the world."

"So do you."

Rachel smiles one last time, sighing softly when Quinn presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you," Quinn says, and then Rachel watches her walk away.

Rachel doesn't move until Quinn is completely out of sight, her head tilting back as she looks up at the gloomy sky. The rain is coming, she knows.

It's just waiting for something.

Waiting on them, maybe.

Kind of like Fate.

* * *

.

* * *

It's two years, four months and six days later when Rachel sees Quinn again.

Well, a picture of her.

At least, she thinks it's her.

Rachel is in a _Barnes & Noble_, looking through the new releases when she sees a cardboard cutout of the highly-anticipated debut novel, Don't Call Me, by promising author, Lucy Quinn.

Rachel doesn't really pay much attention until her eyes drift to the small author picture in the bottom right corner, and Rachel would know those hazel eyes anywhere.

She steps closer, reading the little bio on the fresh author. She doesn't have much time to do a lot of reading these days, but she finds herself reaching for Quinn's book automatically. She's definitely curious.

And excited.

As she reads the blurb at the back of the book, her free hand automatically lifts to fiddle with the ring that hangs around her neck. Has been for two years, four months and five days.

Jesse didn't understand why she kept it, even when she explained her bizarre encounter with the blonde - leaving out the kiss, of course. Maybe, to him, he just worried he wouldn't be able to get her a ring as nice, though he tried.

Jesse's ring feels heavy on her left hand, and she's constantly second-guessing her decision to agree to marry him. They've been engaged for more than a year now, and neither one of them has even brought up the idea of starting to plan for a wedding.

It's not lost on Rachel that her fathers haven't either, and they've had a wedding book planned out since before she was a teenager. She just knows that, were she engaged to someone else, her phone wouldn't have stopped ringing with suggestion after suggestion.

For the first time, Rachel considers that seeing Quinn's picture has to be a sign. Of what exactly, she's not sure, but it's something.

The book is already critically acclaimed, and Rachel knows she's going to buy herself a copy, regardless of the genre.

And, possibly, come to the book signing this coming Friday.

She's not sure if Quinn will even remember her, but it'll be nice just to see her. And, if she gets an autograph in the process, that's always a bonus.

Rachel signs plenty of her own autographs, and the novelty has yet to run out. She loves meeting fans, and she can't help but be proud of what Quinn has accomplished. They may have been fake engaged for less than half an hour, but Rachel feels surprisingly invested in the blonde's success.

And happiness.

God, Rachel hopes Quinn is happy.

Happier than Rachel is, at least.

It's not exactly difficult to imagine. Rachel has hit the heights she dreamed of as a child in her career, but her love life is… stagnant. Things were exciting with Jesse in the beginning. She was convinced they were made for each other, but she's not so sure anymore.

She doesn't think it's helped that her career has risen higher than his, even though he's two years older. Sometimes, she thinks it's because he didn't actually study performance the way she has, but then she also knows what it's like to work with him, and, _well_.

With a sigh, Rachel heads to the counter to purchase the book. She has a few - forced - days off from her current show, because her director is convinced she's starting to burn herself out, and Elliot also wants to keep her Understudy relatively happy by giving her a handful of shows before they go into the busy Summer Period.

While Rachel grumbled and complained, she's suddenly grateful for the four days she gets to spend by herself, even though she has no idea what to do with her time. She's not used to it. It's been pretty much non-stop since she graduated from NYADA.

It's only Wednesday, and she's already going stir crazy.

She has a scheduled lunch with Kurt tomorrow. She'll come to the book signing, probably with Tina, on Friday, and she has no idea what she's going to do on Saturday.

Sunday, she's back with a double show, and she hopes she won't have to find ways to entertain herself again for some days.

It's not lost on her that she hasn't even mentioned to Jesse that she's free. He's currently in Los Angeles, auditioning for a film he heard about through one of Rachel's cast mates. She hopes it goes well for him, of course, but she's wary of how a location separation might affect their relationship.

She might even _want_ it to.

Rachel has talked to Tina, her best friend in the entire world, about her misgivings about marrying Jesse. The other woman is convinced that Rachel will always be hesitant about Jesse, so long as this unspoken thing between her and Quinn exists in the universe.

Yes.

She's _that_ type of friend.

So, it's really no wonder at all that Tina practically jumps at the opportunity to accompany Rachel to the book signing. In fact, Tina goes out immediately to purchase her own copy of the book, so that she'll know what to expect from the author.

Rachel reasons it definitely doesn't help, because Quinn's book sounds nothing like the woman Rachel remembers.

She's _Lucy Quinn_ when she writes, and Rachel is fascinated by both women. She wants to know them, even if Quinn decides she wants nothing to do with her. It'll be heartbreaking if that proves to be the case, but Rachel is optimistic by nature.

She's also trying not to think about Quinn's possible marital status. She hopes that she's happy, really. She hopes she found a woman who treats her the right way; a woman who would allow her to get to the proposal.

A woman who deserves Quinn.

The idea of it unsettles Rachel, and she feels even worse when she realises that she might actually have to tell Quinn that she's still with Jesse. What is she going to say to that?

If she even remembers.

Rachel gets through the next two days with ease. She doesn't bring up Quinn or her plans to see Quinn when she's with Kurt, because he just thinks the entire thing is crazy. He's an idealist, as it were, and he doesn't actually think she had the type of 'moment' with this woman that Rachel believes she did.

Sceptics.

Sceptics everywhere.

Rachel finds it slightly amusing that this is the only thing on which he and Jesse actually agree.

So, when Friday evening rolls around, and she's forty minutes away from meeting Tina, Rachel has a bit of a panic attack. She doesn't know what to wear and, God, what if Quinn really doesn't remember her? What happens then? Does she just get her book signed, and then just go on with her less than ideal life?

Rachel wants to take this as a sign. She didn't, the last time they met, but now she's going to see this woman again, and that has to mean something.

What are the chances, really?

Rachel probably, definitely, would have missed her entirely if she hadn't walked into that _Barnes & Noble_ and _seen_ Quinn's picture.

The panic attack eventually subsides when she finds an outfit that Kurt once put together for her, and she reasons the evening is meant to be casual.

Rachel can do casual.

Well, she can try.

Half an hour later, Rachel is on her way, Quinn's book tucked under her arm. It feels heavy in her possession, and she has so many questions about the story. It's unlike anything she's ever read before and, not to be conceited or anything, but there's a character that sounds alarmingly like Rachel.

Wouldn't that be something?

Rachel meets Tina at the specified spot by the subway station. Even though Rachel is now accomplished and relatively famous, she still uses public transportation. She grew up in New York with it, and she finds a certain comfort in it.

Tina does a little jump in place when she spots Rachel, and they share a quick hug. "I'm so glad we're doing this," Tina says once they're on their way. "I probably wouldn't have read the book if you didn't recommend it, and I have so many questions."

She's not the only one.

Tina eyes her carefully. "I also have questions about the character, Lea," she says. "She reminded me of - "

"Don't," Rachel says sharply. "Please, don't even go there."

Tina rolls her eyes. "Must be a coincidence then," she allows, even though they both know exactly what Tina is and isn't saying.

Rachel says nothing as she leads the way to their destination, purpose in her step as she weaves her way through the crowds. She's used to New York by now, so she barely blinks as she ducks left and spins right to get through the Friday evening masses.

It's almost inevitable that her steps falter when the store comes into sight, and she feels Tina's presence behind her. A hand on her back.

"Wow," Tina says; "look at the line."

Rachel almost sighs when she sees the sheer number of people who have come to see Quinn. The line comes right out of the store, and even wraps around the block.

"Do you think we can use your fame to get to the front of the line?"

Rachel just shakes her head, and then drags Tina to the end of the line. She won't admit it, but she needs the extra time to settle her mind,

She's going to see Quinn again.

She's not sure she's ready for it.

Regardless, the time doesn't seem long enough. Tina starts up a conversation with the women in front of them, which offers Rachel some respite.

Before Rachel knows it, they're in the store, and the buzz is undeniable. There's this excitement in the air, and it's difficult to remember that Quinn is a first time author. If they're reacting to her book this way, it has to be something good.

Which, okay, it is.

Hence, all the questions every person is just itching to ask her.

"Oh, my God," Tina says the second she catches sight of Quinn sitting at her table. "Why didn't you tell me she was gorgeous?"

Rachel can't stand to look in Quinn's direction. "I'm pretty sure I did."

"Jesus," Tina says. "If I wasn't completely straight and married to Mike, I would definitely be interested in her."

Rachel chuckles. "You've been spending too much time with Noah."

She shoots Rachel a look. "I would have been more crass if I were Noah."

"That's true," Rachel concedes. "Would you like to try again?"

Tina just rolls her eyes as they move along the line. They hear quite a bit of squealing at intervals, and some women even leave in tears. There are also young men in the line, and Rachel can only marvel at Quinn's appeal.

She remembers her being the type of person many a people could fall in love with. Rachel's pretty sure she did, and they spent barely an hour together. They even got engaged, for goodness' sake.

Rachel absently reaches for the ring hanging around her neck. It's a comfort to have it, and she wonders if Quinn might want it back. She would be devastated, she's sure, and she's almost convinced she'll say no if it comes down to it.

No.

What it comes down to is this:

When they're three people away from getting to Quinn, Rachel does the _thing_ and actually looks at her, which is as life-changing as it was the first time.

Her heart actually leaps into her throat, and she lets out this strangled sound that has more than just Tina looking curiously at her. She just manages to smile to hide her sudden… discomfort. Surprise. Elation.

All those things.

Quinn is right there, sitting casually at a table, with a pile of books just to her right. She's dressed smartly in a sleeveless, white dress, that's coupled with a red blazer that's draped over the back of her chair.

Her smile is blinding as she looks up at the woman standing in front of her, and Rachel doesn't think she's ever going to be able to take a steady breath ever again.

She's even more stunning than Rachel remembers, and Rachel feels dangerously underdressed and ridiculously underprepared. Quinn is just this… being, and, as accomplished as Rachel is, she suddenly feels dangerously inferior.

As if, that night they met, they both set silent, mutual goals for themselves, and Quinn is the only one who's reached them. She's a published author, and -

And, she _looks_ happy.

It's more than Rachel can honestly say for herself.

As it is, then, she's a basket of nerves when she and Tina are called to approach the table. Quinn sees Tina first, and her smile widens, because she sees a fan, even if Tina is a complete stranger.

And, then, when her eyes settle on Rachel, it disappears completely, giving way to a look of utter shock and disbelief. It lasts for a full thirteen seconds before Quinn's face spreads into the widest smile imaginable, her eyes practically lighting up.

"Rachel," she breathes, and the world stops and starts all over again. Quinn slowly gets to her feet, and it's obvious to everyone in attendance that something is definitely happening between these two women.

Rachel does a bit of an awkward wave, a small smile on her face, because Quinn is looking at her as if she's seen a ghost and the answers to all of life's questions are in her eyes.

"I can't - " Quinn starts; "I can't believe this." She takes a shaky step to her left. "You're here. You're actually here."

Rachel doesn't know what to say, so she just stands there and stares right back at Quinn, her heart thumping against her ribcage, probably leaving bruises.

Tina shifts beside her, and Quinn's gaze shifts. "Oh," she says. "Hi, there."

Tina smiles widely. "Rachel's told me so much about you," she says, and Quinn actually blushes. Blushes like a schoolgirl, red blooming in her cheeks and down her gorgeous neck.

Rachel doesn't know what to say, so she just continues to stare. She can't bring herself to look away. Quinn is right in front of her, looking as remarkable as Rachel's memory allows.

Quinn reaches towards Tina. "Uh, would you like me to sign that?" she asks.

Tina looks between the two of them, her smile way too wide and her eyes far too bright. "Please," she says, and Rachel can just watch as Quinn devotes her attention to Tina, who actually gets to ask a handful of questions.

Then it's Rachel's turn, but neither of them can actually bring themselves to speak. There's so much Rachel wants to say, but her voice isn't working, all of a sudden, and she knows they're wasting precious time.

Time that evaporates in seconds.

"Quinn, babe, you still have more people to see," a woman says, coming up behind Quinn and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Rachel feels her stomach bottom out at the sound of the pet name, and she eyes the two women with curious eyes.

Quinn breathes out slowly. "Sure, Kit, I'll be right there." She looks at Rachel. "I won't be much longer," she says; "do you mind waiting?"

"Not at all," Rachel immediately says, which is true. She's already waited this long, so what's another hour or so?

It turns out to be two.

Tina stays with her as long as she can, but she eventually has to go home to Mike and their son. Rachel hugs her goodbye, and then sits and waits. Quinn keeps glancing at her between each of the fans she talks to, as if she's just making sure Rachel is still here, and Rachel makes sure to smile at her every time.

Someone even brings her a bottle of water while she waits. She thinks she'll probably get away with nobody wanting to figure out who she is by actually talking to her, but she's mistaken.

She's been waiting for almost seventy-five minutes when the woman who called Quinn 'babe' heads over to her and settles herself on the couch beside her. She tries not to give off her nervousness, but she gets the feeling she reeks of it.

"For a while there, I was convinced Quinn made you up," the woman says. "She's not overly emotional, but she does feel things in ways I've never understood. Really, the way she handled Vanessa dumping her didn't really make much sense until she told me about this brunette she met, who blinded her with the stars in her eyes."

Rachel's brow creases. That's an odd description.

"I didn't get it," she says. "Maybe I still don't, but you're here now, and I sincerely hope you're not going to end up hurting her."

Rachel audibly swallows, unsure why those words make her anxious. Hurt Quinn? How could she possibly hurt Quinn? They barely know each other.

"She'll never admit this to you, but she's been waiting for this moment since that night," the woman divulges, and Rachel feels something heavy settle in her chest. "She never used to believe in fate and destiny, but that night changed a lot, I suppose. It baffles me how that could be, but you're here now, and you must be here for a reason, which I hope involves making you both happy." She pauses, and Rachel can feel her eyes on her.

On her hands.

"Funny, though, because that looks nothing like Quinn's ring."

Rachel looks down, automatically, and her breath catches at how foreign Jesse's ring looks on her finger. Her gaze drifts up to Quinn, who looks light and present as she converses with her fans.

It's sudden, the realisation she shouldn't be here. This wasn't some kind of magical meeting. No. This was engineered by Rachel, and it's just going to be bad for Quinn. Because Rachel isn't willing to offer what Quinn has built up in her head.

That's what this woman is trying to tell her.

And, when the woman finally leaves her alone, Rachel _listens_.

Slowly, she unclasps the necklace around her neck and sets the ring on the table in front of her, wondering if she actually has a picture of it.

Still, it's committed to memory.

With a heavy sigh, she gets to her feet, carrying her bag with her. The movement seems to draw Quinn's attention, and Rachel can feel her gaze as she starts to walk towards the exit.

But.

She can't not look, just one more time. Quinn is on her feet when she does, confusion all over her face, her eyes asking silent questions.

"I'm sorry," Rachel's mouth says, but no sound escapes.

Quinn still understands, and her shoulders drop, disappointment and hurt clouding her features for only a moment. She pulls herself together a beat later, and she's back to smiling when she addresses the fan in front of her.

Rachel watches her for a moment more, and then she turns and walks away.

When she gets home, she calls Jesse and sets a date for the wedding.

* * *

.

* * *

It's thirteen months, two weeks and one day later that Rachel sees Quinn again. It's not planned in any way, which is maybe why it catches Rachel so off guard. It's _so_ unexpected, that Rachel actually freezes when her eyes land on her, her steps faltering and her eyes widening.

Quinn looks just as shocked to see her, her mouth hanging open and her face pale.

Rachel wants to run. She wants nothing more than to turn around and escape this moment, because this can't be happening. This is literally her worst - and maybe best - nightmare.

Her father, LeRoy, casts a worried look at her. "Sweetheart," he says, his voice a little high in panic. People are staring at them now, more in alarm than in reverence.

Just moments before, she was so sure.

So, so sure.

Now, faced with Quinn Fabray in all her unassuming glory, Rachel knows she can't ignore this moment.

She can't, and she won't, because there's a reason Quinn is here, today of all days, looking dangerous and purposeful in an actual ladies' _suit_.

"Daddy," Rachel whispers, her heart beating uncontrollably in her chest. "I - I can't."

"What?"

"I can't do this."

LeRoy's eyes widen. "Can't do what?"

"This," Rachel murmurs, and she takes a single step back, which is enough of an indicator as to how serious she's being. She can't do this.

There's just no way she's going to be able to walk down this aisle and say 'I do' to someone else now. Not when Quinn Fabray is sitting right there, looking at her as if she understands everything that's going on in Rachel's head.

If she does, Rachel wishes she could explain it.

Rachel takes another step back, her intent clear, and there's a collective gasp in the venue. Only Quinn is silent, watching with wide and alert eyes, as Rachel makes a decision that she'll carry with her for years to come.

"Rachel?" Jesse asks from his position at the altar, and that's the moment Rachel bolts. She turns on her heel without spending a moment more thinking about it, and rushes back the way she came, leaving both parties slack-jawed.

Well. Okay.

Not _everyone_ is surprised. In fact, most were surprised she even made it that far. Jesse might have actually had to drag her down the aisle with the way things eventually played out with their engagement, and, well, this is why.

Rachel is now a runaway bride, and Jesse goes running after her, his own face clouded in embarrassment, confusion and anger.

All because the sight of Quinn has finally given her the courage to accept what her initial meeting with that particular blonde tried to teach her.

And, the aftermath is ugly.

Of course, it is.

Rachel is a Broadway actress with a sometimes-Broadway ex-fiancé, and the man paints a rather awful picture of her once all is said and done and the breakup is finalised. She makes no comment, of course, because she _did_ hurt him, but she draws the line when he alludes to her being unfaithful.

Maybe she was a little bit.

Before they were ever engaged.

As if he's one to talk.

It's a quick statement that Rachel has Kurt release while she remains hidden away in her condo, and it's the start of the rest of her life.

A life, she realises, that _can_ involve Quinn, somehow. Quinn, who was at her potential wedding, just appearing out of nowhere. Quinn, who hasn't tried to contact her. Quinn, who she now knows was at the wedding as Jesse's old roommate's plus one. Quinn, who, like it or not, has played a substantial role in helping Rachel _finally_ realise what she deserves.

Quinn.

Rachel thinks she could possibly find a way to get in contact with her, but she doesn't think the time is right, given she's just blown up her own relationship because a certain woman happened to be in the congregation of her _wedding_.

Also, she's learned a thing or two about engineering a meeting.

If it's supposed to happen, it will.

She doesn't think she's able to believe anything else.

* * *

.

* * *

It takes six months and three days for them to meet again, and this time it's at a fundraiser.

Obviously, Rachel isn't expecting to see anyone she actually _knows_ , not really, because she considers herself a baby celebrity, and this is supposed to be a big celebrity event.

She takes Tina with her, because the woman has been gushing about possibly meeting Ben Platt since Rachel managed to get them tickets for _Dear Evan Hansen_. Really, Rachel is there to show her face, make a sizeable donation, and then go home.

She's a little burned out, if she's being honest, having worked non-stop since the breakup. If there's one good thing to come out of that disaster, it's all the Tony-buzz surrounding her performances as Andy in the musical version of _The Devil Wears Prada_.

Hah.

What a turnaround.

Silver linings and everything.

The evening starts out well. In fact, it's really quite pleasant, and Rachel ignores the knowing looks Tina shoots her way as they mingle. People actually know who she is, which is a little wild, and she's decided to use the opportunity to make some contacts.

Or something.

It's maybe an hour into the event, before dinner is supposed to be served, that the evening turns. Flips over, spirals out of control, and Rachel is left reeling.

"Oh, my God," Tina suddenly says, and she's looking rather pointedly at a spot just over Rachel's shoulder, as the two of them stand at the bar to get refills. "Oh, my God."

Rachel frowns, automatically moving to turn her head, only for Tina to stop her with a firm hand to her arm. "What the hell, T?" she asks.

"Don't look," Tina says. "I - you - look - " she stops and sighs. "Please don't freak out or anything."

Rachel blinks. "Why would I freak out?" she asks, and then tenses. "Shit, is Jesse here?"

"No," Tina says. "It's worse."

"Who could be worse than Jesse?" she asks, actually having to think about it. There's really nobody she would rather see less, and she doesn't think there's anyone else Tina would be reacting this -

When realisation hits, Rachel's body can't stop itself from spinning around quite suddenly, and her eyes find Quinn's form among the masses far too easily, as if she's wearing some kind of beacon.

_Quinn_.

Standing there in a gorgeous, sleeveless blue dress, her hair pinned up and a steady smile on her face as she converses in a small group of women.

_Quinn_.

Rachel is vaguely aware of Tina saying something behind her, but she can barely hear her. Not in this moment, when Quinn is literally across the room.

Just there; right there.

So, Rachel stares, and stares and continues to stare.

She keeps staring, frozen in place, as her brain tries and fails to come up with scenarios where this gets _better_. Is there something she's supposed to do? Say? Can she just go up there? Is she supposed to turn and walk away? Would Quinn even want her to do some -

Quinn quite suddenly looks her way, and Rachel doesn't have enough time to pretend she hasn't been _staring_. She's really been gawking, because, goodness, Quinn is _so_ beautiful. Stunning, really, and -

Shit, she's headed over here.

"Tina," Rachel suddenly says, unable to take her eyes off Quinn, who looks equally surprised by this entire thing as she makes her way across the large ballroom. Rachel suddenly wants to run. She should run, as far away from this moment as possible.

She's not ready.

She's never going to be ready.

But, Quinn is still walking towards her, steps a little hesitant and gentle smile flickering. It's almost as if she's unsure if she should be approaching, given the events of the last time they saw each other. And the time before that.

Rachel takes a deep breath and holds her ground, quietly preparing herself for this latest meeting. This one feels the most important, though. It feels the most meaningful, and her heart is beating wildly in her chest, as if it knows it.

Quinn comes to a stop about a yard in front of Rachel, and they seem to have eyes for only each other. "Hi," Quinn says, and Rachel sucks in a breath. "Look at you."

"Look at _you_ ," Rachel says in response, and her voice sounds strange to her own ears. Higher than normal, almost strangled - enough to know she's been affected. She was always going to be.

Quinn leans forward ever so slightly, wanting be closer without getting too close. The last thing she wants is for Rachel to run away from her again. She doesn't think her battered little heart could handle it happening again.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel finds herself asking.

Quinn grins a little coyly. "Raising funds," she says, biting at her bottom lip for a moment. "Signed books and a visit to the movie set with yours truly are up for grabs."

Rachel blinks. "They're making it a movie?"

Quinn shrugs. "As far as I'm aware," she says, as if it's not a big deal.

"That's great, Quinn."

They both fall silent, this moment between them uncharted territory. Every time before this, Rachel has been the one to leave, but she's still standing here, and neither of them knows what to do or say.

Quinn clears her throat. "What are _you_ doing here?" she asks, trying for _something_.

The last thing Rachel wants to do is make small talk, which is why she quite suddenly grabs for Quinn's hand and drags her out of the ballroom, her eyes constantly scanning for somewhere private to talk. She's a woman on a mission, Quinn almost tripping over her own feet several times in her attempt to follow.

Rachel leads them as far away from the ballroom as possible, finding a quiet bathroom in a little alcove and slipping inside, her grip on Quinn never once going slack.

Until they're inside, that is, and the entire situation hits her.

Oh.

Rachel abruptly releases Quinn's hand and puts some space between them, her face dark with a blush. What did she just do?

Quinn smooths down her dress and straightens her spine, a slight smirk on her face. "Well, I mean, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask."

"Quinn," she breathes, unable to keep her disbelief out of her voice, because Quinn didn't just say that.

"I mean, I'm all for a secret bathroom rendezvous," Quinn quips; "but at least take me on a date first."

Rachel shakes her head in amusement. "Shut up."

Quinn's smile is soft, genuine. "You're still here."

Her brow furrows for a moment, not understanding the significance of those words until Quinn takes a small step closer and speaks again.

"Usually, you're running from me," she says. "This time, you took me with you."

Rachel drops her gaze for a moment, feeling her regret bubble. They have a lot to talk about, definitely, but this moment feels like a starting point rather than a point where they simply _resume_.

She focuses on her breathing, trying to make sense of her thoughts enough to put them into words. Her gaze, as dropped as it is, halts when she catches sight of the necklace around Quinn's neck.

She blinks, once, twice, and then asks, "Is that - " with a pointed finger at Quinn's sternum.

Quinn glances down, and then smiles shyly, her fingers reaching up to fiddle with the ring hanging on a simple chain. "It's been waiting for you the same way I have," she admits.

Rachel steps closer to her, heart hammering in her chest and thoughts jumbled.

"You're still here," Quinn says again.

"I buckled the first time," Rachel says, her eyes a little wide with all the truths her mouth suddenly wants to spew. "And, I guess, the second and the third time."

Quinn just looks at her, her own eyes focused and pupils _dark_.

"But, it's going to be different this time."

Quinn shakes her head. "I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me right now," she confesses, her hands twitching at her sides.

"I buckled under the weight of it," Rachel says again, stepping right into Quinn's space. "But, I promise it's not going to happen again."

"It can be heavy, can't it?" Quinn murmurs, her gaze dropping to Rachel's lips for a moment.

"What?"

"The weight of it."

And, Rachel knows Quinn gets it. She understands, and this is the moment they get to move forward, together. Her own fingers reach for the ring, their fingers brushing, and it sparks _something_.

Quinn can't handle the thought of being apart a second longer, and she leans in to close the gap between their mouths, taking something she's being offered.

Rachel winks into her, because this is their moment, and they're going to take it.

They'll bear the weight of it. Together, this time.

The weight of Fate.

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
